Everybody Knows That Everybody Dies
by VinSkaro
Summary: In the midst of a promotion and learning of Norman's condition, Dylan befriends a plain, down-to-earth girl in the weed business. It was a refreshing friendship considering recent happenings. However, what Dylan doesn't know is that, the more he learns about her, the less he actually knows. *This fan fiction starts sometime between "A Boy and His Dog" and "Underwater".
1. Rather Unremarkable

Work was over and now was Dylan's opportunity to pick up some groceries for the house. In his opinion he'd been the one doing the shopping more often than Norma or his brother. But then again, he could always use a nice stroll into the town once in a while - even though the local townsfolk had been pretty sketchy on more than one occasion. And when he meant sketchy, he meant completely insane, what with all the murders the town had in just the first couple of month's he'd been here. No doubt it all had something to do with this weird pot business. Or maybe other secret businesses no one knew of or cared to admit to. Deputy Shelby and Keith Summers had been involved in an underground slave trade business. What reason was there not to suspect other illegal, economical boosts to the small town?

The scruffy, blonde young man walked along the refrigerated beverages section and stopped to grab a half gallon of cream. Norma was a serial creamer and, typically, so was her obedient son. Dylan often tried not to think about the weird relationship between Norman and their mother. It was just… weird. Beyond weird, actually. With a sigh, he shook the thoughts, knowing it would all just piss him off. Even with Norman's weird condition, Dylan was absolutely sure that living with Norma would only make things worse. However, what could _he_ do? He didn't know how to handle someone with the problem his little brother had. What _was_ it anyhow? And why hadn't they gotten professional help? Why was that impossible woman always so… impossible?!

"You gonna get all of 'em? Or are you just gonna stare at them 'till they spoil?"

Dylan whipped his blue eyes to his right, where a girl stood looking at him, clearly amused. He'd been standing with cream in one hand and the refrigerator door in the other for who knows how long? He cleared his throat and let the door close, turning to face the girl with long black, wavy hair. Her tan skin tone brought out her deep green eyes that still looked amused. But now that he looked into them from where he stood, they looked old in a way - almost sad.

"Sorry, did you need to…" he pointed at the low variety of milks and creams.

The girl, who couldn't have been much older than he was, shook her head, "Nah, I just saw you there frozen like a statue and thought I'd check if you were good. And also to say 'hi' I guess… but, it looks like you have no idea who the hell I am." She gave a little chuckle. "Classic."

Dylan stood thinking, obviously not recalling seeing her before. He thought this girl wouldn't have been hard to forget. Not because she was incredibly gorgeous. She really wasn't actually, no offense. She had an ordinary look to her, like she hadn't demanded attention once in her life. What he wouldn't have forgotten, though, were those eyes. The age he saw in them. It was weird. But not Norma and Norman weird, so it must've been a good type of weird. Finally, he pressed his lips together with his eyebrows raising to his forehead indicating his forfeited attempt to remember her.

She flashed a crooked smile, "I'll give you a hint," she walked closer and leaned in, "I practically wanted to kiss you for kicking Rex outta the van when you picked us up."

Dylan's eyes squinted at her, not quite believing what she was saying. Her? A trimmer? No way. She looked… normal, clean. And not just clean as in hygienically clean, but she looked completely weed free. Now that, he would've remembered - especially in a group of hippie, pot heads. Then again, Reno had initially forced Dylan's attention on how annoying that singing bastard was.

The woman saw his look of disbelief and nodded confirmation. "Yup. But no worries, I wasn't the only one. He's always been an ass."

"So I heard," he said, trying harder than ever to search for her in his memories. He held out his hand, "I'm Dy-"

"Dylan." She said, shaking his hand, "At least one of us remembered the other." She said chuckling. "Jane Morris."

The twenty-one year old gave a polite little smile. He had so many questions he wanted to ask, but their public location had kept his mouth shut. They had to be careful about their topic of conversations in public locations. Dylan couldn't mess up this job. He couldn't. And he definitely didn't want Jane to get in trouble either. Unfortunately, due to this rule, he had allowed a momentary awkward silence fall between them.

Regardless, everyone in the town knew the bases of their economic support, but it was obviously still an unwise move to talk about it so freely.

Jane nodded as if understanding the situation, "Anyway, I better get back to shopping. I'll see you around?"  
"Yeah, sure." He said. Jane moved passed him and he just watched her walk away. Maybe he'd see her at the motel sometime tomorrow. Though he hoped she looked the same as she did just now. If so, she would stick out like a sore thumb amongst her friends, unless they too had managed to clean up real well.


	2. Something Unexpected

The warehouse stunk of a sharp, grassy-like scent which Dylan hadn't liked all too much. He paced calmly around, acting as surveillance over the activity. However, his job had placed second in his line of focus that day - thanks to a certain girl he didn't want to admit caught his attention lately. All he wanted to do was help her out, that's it. It wasn't because he was trying to get closer to her with any romantic intent. Admittedly, nothing would've held him back if only Norman hadn't had an interest in the blonde beauty.

Dylan couldn't believe Norman's first time had been with a girl like Bradley Martin. Things like that just didn't happen to kids like him. Not that he didn't deserve a good time with an incredibly good looking girl. It was just rare. Then again, a lot of crazy things happen in life; the good and unfortunately, the bad.  
He'd been walking by a table stacked with finished products when Gil walked by. Dylan walked up to him and had a little chat about Jerry Martin's office. At first he thought he was dead meat when he saw just how much the guy actually loathed the dead man even after he was long gone. Dylan has had his suspicions about the man's death but he never relied on assumptions, even if they were a likely possibility. And on the other hand, he definitely wasn't gonna focus on such a thought when he was now in Martin's position. Luckily he was able to get permission to do whatever he liked with the office. Unfortunately though, he wouldn't be able to actually get Bradley inside. Hopefully she understood. Gil's bad side wasn't a place he wanted to stumble into. And he definitely didn't want Bradley getting caught either. He'd have to meet with her and tell her.  
Of course he hadn't felt in the least bit happy to be able to see her again...

After a nice after-work nap, Dylan decided to head out to meet Bradley at the cafe. His keys jingled as he swung them around his finger while he speedily made his way down the stone steps to the motel. Before reaching his blue truck, he smelled yet another burning joint and glanced over to the porch of the motel. The youngest one of all the trimmers, he forgot his name, had been sitting there smoking a "doobie" as Norma called it. For the most part it didn't matter much to him if they smoked weed all day. It's not like the motel is officially opened for business and like they said, this town runs on weed money so why make a big deal?  
Just then, one of the doors to the rooms opened and out came that girl from earlier, Jane. She looked like she was going out. After sharing a few words with the boy on the porch she began walking out which was when she noticed Dylan.

"Oh, hey!" she smiled.  
Dylan returned the gesture, "Hey. Goin' out?"  
"Yup. One of my, uh, 'colleagues' is piss drunk. The bartender used his phone to call me and said someone should get him so... fun stuff." She scoffed. "What about you?"  
"I've been inside most of the day. Just thought I'd get out a bit." He lied. "Hey, uh, did you need a ride to wherever?"  
Jane flashed a crooked smile, "Normally I'd say no, but bus rides in unfamiliar towns scare the hell outta me."

Dylan laughed as he too hated them, that's why he got a motorcycle before finally getting the truck he had now. In his opinion, it was safe to say that all buses had their fair share of lunatics and crazy tweakers that make all the normal people hate public transportation. He was glad to relieve her of that and of course having to walk.

After taking off for the bar, Dylan decided that he'd ask those questions he wanted to ask back at the market. It seemed like the best thing to do to avoid any conversation about himself. He would rather much learn about a trimmer than share his recent activities or, hell, even his past.

"So, if you don't mind me asking, how did you become a trimmer?"

Jane scrunched her mouth to one side as she thought about it. Then she shrugged, "I dunno, the normal way I guess. I couldn't find much else. I was in high school and lost both my parents. Sent to live with my uncle. Charming guy," she muttered with a level of spite Dylan guessed she didn't mean to let slip. "I decided I didn't want to live with him and in order to do that I needed to be able to take care of myself financially. And so, here I am." Jane shrugged though she seemed to keep her attention outside her window.

Silence lingered in the air a moment before Dylan finally broke it. "I'm sorry."

Jane looked at him. It looked as though she was searching for something in his face. Then the corners of her mouth pulled up slowly into a smile. Wrinkles formed at the corner of her eyes as she chuckled. The strange thing was that it would've been a typical reaction if that smile of hers was a total mask. People often smiled when they didn't want to, just because opening up to people was hard. But she seemed genuine.

"What?" He asked, a slight smile on his face.  
"You're weird."  
" _I'm_ weird?" He chuckled.  
"I'm just saying, you're not typical, _especially_ for a drug goon. And don't ask me how because I know that's just your chance for me to bathe in you in compliments."  
"What's wrong with that?" They both laughed. Strange. Dylan hadn't expected her to be such good company. He actually felt his joy deflate a bit when they arrived to her destination. "Here we are."  
"Indeed, we are." Jane looked out the window at a guy laying on a bench. He assumed it was her friend. "Thanks again."  
"Sure." He replied. After seeing her off, he finally carried on his way to the diner. He found himself chuckling softly to himself. He felt like an idiot, but cheery nonetheless.


End file.
